Archive for May, 2008

Is it really The Chicken?

May 31, 2008 · Filed under Announcement

The sun has not shown its full round face yet, but the chickens are already up. Can it be? Can it really really be? The words are out. The Chicken is back!! In flocks and groups, they all run out of their coop to the yard. Woosh.

And what do you know, there he is. The pride handsome rooster himself. In flesh and blood (and feathers, of course). The Chicken.

Yet something feels odd. He smells different. He looks different. The skin tone is much lighter. The beak shinier (some think it seems bigger than usual, like cousin Pelican). The smile wider. His eyes are unfamiliarly friendlier. No smug, no cynical smirk. Instead, kind and friendly glare.

This is too much. Is it really our beloved so-much-missed Chicken? Suspicions arise. Words spread. Even distant families of aves are gossiping (see left).

There has been some alleged sightings of The Chicken. Some even accuse Yellow Chickey as an accomplice. (see below. Hmm.)

Yellow Chickey! Aha! She must have known something. The lazy young chick is still sound asleep in her warm coop, indifferent of what has been going on.

Hens and roosters run hastily to the young chick, shedding off some pounds and feathers along the way. A funny picture if you see them running from behind. Cluck cluck.

But who cares? Much more pressing issue is at hand.

The elders and not-so-elders are now standing before the sleeping beauty. She opens her tiny innocent eyes. The sleepy eyes are now wide awake. Jolted by fear for the worst. What? What??

Nothing. Just curios. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk later.

And the day continues. Strange flock, those chickens.

[Pics taken from here and there.]

[The Chicken [still in hidden mode]: Happy chickday, Hun! *couldn’t resist*]

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Celebrating The Chicken Awakening Day

May 29, 2008 · Filed under Special occasion

It is that time of the year again, where chickens all over the world celebrate its Awakening Day. A day when chickens–chicks, hens and roosters alike–join all farm animals to commemorate the dawn of their enlightened period and the start of their revolution, as depicted in George Orwell’s Animal Farm. (Yes, good old chap George was not writing fiction. No sir, he was not.)

The chickens, awakened. Can you imagine how impossibly early the chickens need to wake up on that day? *sigh*

At the Chickendom, however, this year’s celebration is pretty somber, as The Chicken’s whereabout is yet to be known. Still, tradition is tradition. The show must go on, as chirpy should-have-realized-their-age-more Chick and Dale say.

So the chickens lazily came out from their own warm fluffy comfy all-natural organic hay bed at wee hour in the morning (if you can call such hours morning) to gather around the holy fire and ponder upon life. Solemn. Silent. With occasional ineffable “zzzzz pfeeew zzzz” sounds.

Then comes the peak of the procession, where each and every chicken makes its symbolic sacrifice. Each chicken plucks out a single gentlest feather from its back (just to make it more challenging) and throws it into the fire.

As the last feather touches the tip of fire, all together, the chicken screamed from the top of their lungs, “coo-ko-roo-cooo…uhuk uhuk” (some just simply try too hard). Enthusiastic bunch, they are.

A procession that is least liked by Chick-a-boo. (Chick-a-boo: “Try living for hundreds of years, where every single year you have to pluck out one feather from your body.” Of course, understandable.) The rebellious elderly continues to crawl like a fragile baby chick at his corner. The top right corner of the barn attic, just above the Chicken’s bed.

Owh, The Chicken. Everybody starts to acknowledge (silently in his/her heart) that they miss him. Awakening Day is not an awakening day without him. Nobody can make fire like he does (he always manages to get his own tail on fire) or play banjo like he does (everybody else is better, even the one-day year old chick).

[Hey, the scent. A familiar scent. Can it be The chicken has returned? Perhaps.. Then the wind blows. And the scent vanishes. Hope is just what it is: hope.]

As all return to their own coop, Yellow Chickey slips to hers. She takes out what seems to be old dilapidated feathers– they are Chicken’s. She keeps them tucked safely under her bed for good luck charm and tingling sensation. Everybody has to believe in something, a (rather) wise human once said. Even if it is old scruffy ramshackle feather of a no-good chicken. *strange*

The murky mystery still lurks from the dark corner of the barn. Where is The Chicken?

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Where is Chicken????

May 23, 2008 · Filed under Announcement

The Chicken has gone AWOL. Once again. Nobody knows where he is. His must-have necklace has been found lying about with no chicken neck to hang on to.

A couple of years ago similar thing happened. Chicken was missing. His driver came forward and brought the necklace. With a serious look, he said, “This is all that is left,” holding out the necklace which has almost been the C’s signature.

After a serious long winding investigation, at that time, it was found out that the Chicken was indeed being kidnapped. Fortunately, bargains were made and the chicken was returned in good health.

This time, however, nobody knows for sure. Anything can happen to the feisty one. Yes, sometimes being a celebrity has its own risks.

Yellow Chickey was too sad to make any comment. She just stares blankly from within her glass barn. Aw, she misses him. That old stubborn stupid feathered smug.

Other chickens start to make assumptions and bets. After all, The Chicken is notorious for diminishing from the face of the earth. “Perhaps he finally has lost it,” they say. “Maybe he has had enough of us.” And a thousand and more odd allegations flying about (although being chicken, they cannot fly far, or that high either for that matter).

The situation is bloodcurdling, to say the least. Even the ever-so-wise-and-cheeky chick-a-boo, the unseen chicken, does not say a thing.

Although, some chicks claimed that chick-a-boo has that knowing suspicious typical smirk of his. A smile that can be interpreted as the seer wishes.

Such claim, of course, is baseless. How can one (chick) see the smile of the great unseen? Crazy young chicks. Perhaps too much whisken or narcochick during weekends (and school nights as well).

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Away at the mo

May 15, 2008 · Filed under Announcement · Tagged

Hey you. Thanks for visiting. The chickens are away to find worms, peck dust, have a bird bath, or whatever chickens do.

If you are feeling fried, all cooped up, stressed out by the pecking order, or if you feel like you’ve been laying a lot of eggs lately, you can ruffle your feathers here and leave your messages, if you wish.

But not too long. We’re busy.

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